Hope for Christmas
by brookeAp3
Summary: Today is the hardest of them all. This first Christmas without her son, trapped in a land she hates. Fortunately for Regina, Robin and Roland are there to give her a bit of hope and happiness on this holiday. Missing year OQ.


**A/N: Happy Birthday, Liz!**

Regina collapses down on the bed, rolling off of Robin with a satisfied groan, her labored breathing causing her chest to rise and fall as they come down from their high. This is good. Just what she needs. This blissful moment where her brain is quiet. When her body can only focus on her loose limbs and trembling muscles. Not the deep ache that resides in her chest. All the time. Never ending.

She's not thinking about Henry right now. Or the fact that he's an entire world away, somewhere she can never possibly find her way to, not anymore.

It's Christmas.

The first one without her son and it hurts, more than Regina could ever have imagined. She'd thought the months she's already spent here had been hell, but this is worse. The hardest day she's faced yet, this holiday without her little prince. There are none of their usual traditions. No hanging stockings from the mantle and decorating the tree, Henry getting tangled up in the lights until they are both doubled over in laughter. No making Christmas cookies and warm hot chocolate with cinnamon before sitting down and watching _Rudolph_.

They don't get to have any of that anymore. Instead she is trapped in this castle she despises, haunted by memories of the past that Regina would prefer to forget while Snow traipses around spreading holiday cheer. It's sickening.

But they both have their own ways of coping with the harsh loss of their children. The princess has been prancing about the castle decorating every inch of it with holly and tinsel, wreaths and ribbons, and Regina's been doing _this_.

Well… Robin more accurately. The thief has proved to be quite the pleasant distraction. Whenever she's felt this stabbing in the pit of her stomach, this tightening vice around her heart the last few weeks she's sought him out. Kissed him until neither of them could breath and let him take away just a bit of that pain. Never all of it, for neither does she want that, nor does Regina believe it possible, but enough that she isn't curled up in a ball sobbing the way she would like to be.

He turns to her then, drapes an arm over her waist and pulls her naked body against his own. Tucking his nose into the space between her neck and shoulder, Robin inhales deeply, "That was quite something, milady."

Regina smiles, lets out a light laugh, but as their bodies begin to cool her brain starts to clear and those memories of what this day is supposed to be begin filtering in, torment returning and the curving of her lips quickly dying.

Robin must see it, or sense it more like (he's far too adept at reading her for Regina's own comfort). "What is it?" He asks, lets his fingertips trail lightly up her torso and down her side, settling on her hip.

She merely shakes her head, wiggling away from the temptation of his warm body and comforting nature. Neither of which are something she should be allowing herself to have. She's being reckless. "Nothing. You should go. Wouldn't want you to miss this _special day_ with Roland." She's kept him from his son for too long already and her heart aches as she struggles to keep thoughts of Henry at bay. It would seem she's doing quite a poor job of it as well.

A warm palm cups her face and Regina keeps her eyes closed for a moment longer, struggling to reign in the tears that want to well up and spill over. "Regina, talk to me." Robin pleads softly.

No. That's not what they do. Not what this… arrangement is. No emotions. No post-coital discussions during which she can allow herself to be vulnerable. She can't afford it. Not with him. "It's nothing." She tells him, voice thick with unshed tears and Regina curses her inability to control herself. "Go be with your son."

It's the absolute worst thing she could have said to make him leave because sudden understanding dawns over his features and now he knows exactly what turn her thoughts have taken. He can read her like a book. She's not fooling anyone, least of all him. And dammit, she never should have started this with him, not after seeing that tattoo and knowing what they could mean to each other. It's too dangerous.

"Ahhhh. I see." Robin says in an understanding tone that makes Regina want to rage.

"No, you do _not_ see!" She grumbles, grabs the sheet from around their knees and angrily janks it up over her body as she sits up, a bit of a barrier between them. She glares at him, heart breaking at the sympathetic look on his face. She doesn't need his pity. "Get out." Regina orders, does her best to imbue the words with an authority fitting of The Evil Queen, but it's a difficult task to accomplish when she's naked in bed with him. And her mask has never held up very well with him to begin with.

True to form, Robin doesn't move, merely looks at her for a long moment before he reaches out a tentative hand to brush his fingers over her bicep in what she is sure is meant to be a soothing gesture. The hell of it all is that it is. "If you truly wish for me to leave, milady, I will. But I loath the thought of parting with you and leaving you here to stew in your pain."

"And what would you know about that?" She bites, hugs her arms around her torso and secretly wishes they were Robin's. He's the only one in longer than she can possibly remember that offers comfort even when she pushes him away.

Sighing, Robin sits up himself, knees bumping against hers as he reaches to take her hand in his. It's something of a victory that she lets him. There's a melancholic expression on his face as he quietly admits, "I know more about it than you might think. And I know that keeping those emotions bottled up isn't beneficial to anyone."

A lone tear escapes her efforts to prevent them from falling and slides quickly down her cheek. Robin's other hand lifts to gently wipe it away, cupping her chin and holding it until she finally lifts her gaze to meet his. Those crystal clear blue eyes of his hold so much understanding, a wealth of _feeling_ , that she is not ready for. Why did she think this was a good idea?

Sure the sex is incredible, off the charts. But Regina isn't ready for any sort of relationship. Honestly doesn't believe she could ever get to a place where she could open herself up for heartache that way again. Not without Henry here. So choosing to get involved with him this way was a completely idiotic, horrible decision.

Except that the way he's looking at her makes her heart trip over inside her chest, and then he's pulling her into his arms, wrapping her up in his warm and protective embrace and she breaks. Regina can't control the sobs that abruptly wrack her body. Ugly, heaving tears and shallow breaths because she can not draw enough air into her lungs. Her tears burn her eyes, salty tracks rolling down her face and landing on Robin's bare chest. Thankfully, he says nothing, merely murmurs, _Shhhhh, it's okay. Let it out._ And presses kisses into her hair.

Regina doesn't know how long they stay like that. Too long, certainly. By the time she recovers enough to get herself back under control she is left feeling drained, a subtle throbbing in the back of her skull that Robin somehow miraculously finds, kneading his thumb along the tense muscle until it begins to relax. Her fit hasn't scared him away apparently, but she has no idea what to do now.

And Regina has to admit it feels nice to be held like this, to not have to pretend she isn't a broken pile of glass shards, scarred and jagged, a shell of what she once was. The hand that isn't massaging her neck is running his fingers through her hair. Over and over again. It's such a soothing gesture. Every pass of his hand easing the hurt that dominates her. They stay that way for a few more minutes, Regina allowing Robin to soundlessly comfort her.

"He's gone." She finally chokes out, unable to stand the silence between them. As weary as she is, her out burst has only made her feel uncomfortable. And there's a silly part of her that wishes Robin had never seen her like that, open wounds on display. Not that the futile hope would have made much difference. He's always appeared to see far more of her than Regina wishes he could.

His palm rubs soothing circles over her back, his fingers calloused against her soft skin, and it nearly makes her shiver. "I know. I'm so sorry, Regina. But from what I can understand he's in a good place, somewhere he can be happy. And your son would not want you grieving him forever. Of that I am sure." Robin's other hand strokes up and down her arm as he says, "Don't let your loss consume you. Not today."

"How am I supposed to do anything else?" She questions, too worn out for her anger to return full force. Instead her tone is laced with defeat. "Today is the hardest of them all." The omission is barely above a whisper, to the point Robin nearly misses hearing it altogether.

Regina has no idea what has possessed her to be so brutally honest. It's the last thing she should be doing. Especially where he is concerned. Vulnerability only leads to weakness and Regina can't risk letting herself become weak. It goes against every instinct she's ever learned.

Yet, still, something about this man tugs at her, makes her feel safe. Perhaps he really is her soulmate and Tinkerbell had been right. They are destined to be together. It's the only explanation for this pull she feels toward him. Why she finds herself revealing more to him than she ever has to anyone, even Daniel.

"Because it's Christmas?" He inquires.

Regina nods, admitting, "This was Henry's favorite holiday. Decorating and baking cookies together, hiding his gifts to keep him from snooping, watching him tear through wrapping paper Christmas morning. It brought him so much joy, and me by extension. None of it is the same without him here, everything is hollow. I miss him so much it aches. Tenfold. Today's been so much worse than any other, brought all of those memories back and it—" Her voice trails off, choking up, throat constricting painfully as tears rise.

"It what?" Robin questions quietly, that hand continuing to make soothing passes up and down her spine, lulling her into a sense of comfort that allows her to admit her next few words.

"It feels like nothing will ever be alright again."

Robin's embrace tightens around her, drawing her impossibly closer to his body, gently massaging her scalp as he tells her with absolute certainty, "That's not true, Regina. You will find happiness again. You just have to be willing to give it a chance."

And if only it were that simple. If only happiness was something she was destined for. But fate has proven otherwise again and again, beating her down anytime there's a glimmer of hope. She's stopped believing it's something she can have. Even if there are brief moments when it shimmers before her, like a mirage in a desert of loneliness. Times where it almost feels like her heart starts beating again. Afternoons spent with Roland in the garden, playing, picking apples from her tree. Nights pressed up against this man, slick skin and endless pleasure. Those are the instances that have become too seductive for her to resist. The ones that are most dangerous. Because they make her start to believe in fairytales.

Sniffling, cursing herself yet again for being so weak around him, Regina pushes herself away from his tempting warmth, sitting up beside him and staring at him with glistening lashes, tear tracks running over her cheeks, and red-rimmed eyes. She's sure it's not a particularly attractive sight to behold.

Then again, it doesn't seem to be deterring Robin any, if the way he's looking at her is any indication. She can't quite describe it. A mixture of understanding and affection and determination she supposes. Whatever the word for it, his expression has butterflies jumping in her stomach and her continuing to be reckless.

"That doesn't feel possible." she confesses, quietly. The room is large, whispered words echoing in a way that normally makes her feel small, but right now it's as if she and Robin are in their own little world. Nothing outside of the two of them in this bed.

He smiles at her, lifts a hand to push a dark lock that's fallen over her face back behind her ear, cupping her cheek in the process as he says, "It _is_. Let me show you."

Regina frowns, confused. What on earth could he possibly show her to convince her that her own happiness is achievable? Even without her son here. "How?"

Grinning, Robin leans forward, captures her lips with his own for a deep kiss, that hand on her face inching upward until he can blissfully scratch his nails along her scalp. Pleasure blooms within Regina's belly again, and she can already feel the first stirrings of desire from that single meeting of mouths. She's never had such a strong physical reaction to someone before, not in her entire life. It makes him impossible to resist.

Robin rests his forehead against hers, waits for her eyes to open and for his blurry face to come into her vision, she can't really see him, except for his eyes. Those deep, blue depths that she could drown in. For a split second her world centers around those baby blues.

"Well, to start…" Robin draws, the corner of his mouth tipping upward, "we're going to bring back some of that Christmas joy."

A little wrinkle of confusion creases just between Regina's brows at Robin's words. She pulls back to study him fully, the sheet that had been covering her pooling around her waist and revealing her still naked torso, her breasts. She doesn't bother to lift it again. Not when his eyes dart quickly down to her chest and back up, those irises going from cobalt to navy.

But Regina won't be distracted, not yet, at least. She wants an explanation. "What do you mean by that?"

Rather than answer her question, Robin smirks, a familiar gleam in his eyes as he leans closer to her. Before she knows it, Regina is underneath him, having the breath kissed out of her as his tongue delves into her mouth, exploring, and every thought previously occupying space in her head vanishes. She can still taste the ale he must have had with dinner on this tongue, even after all the kisses they'd shared during their earlier romp.

Callused hands slide over her skin, across her shoulder, along her bicep before they venture to cup her breasts, kneading them, pinching her nipples between his fingers. Little tingles ricochet through her limbs, circulating from the points of origin where he touches her. Moaning into his mouth, Regina forgets everything but the feel of him for the next few minutes as they make out. Her leg comes up to hook around his hip, grinding herself against him as her body seeks out the pleasure the action brings her. That _Robin_ brings her.

He's half hard against her, could easily slip inside her if he wanted with a few well timed strokes. So she brings a hand between them, does just that, and grins against his mouth at the tiny grunt he releases as her fingers wrap around his shaft, twisting up and down. This she understands. She is well versed in using sex as a diversion. Would much rather focus on the way Robin nibbles along her jaw bone, up to her ear, and back to her mouth, than her pitiful situation. Another round of mind blowing sex doesn't seem like a bad idea. It seems Robin has other plans, however.

By the time he separates their lips, Regina is thoroughly worked up again, brain a little foggy and she pouts when he rolls off of her to stand, bending to gather his clothes strewn about the floor. "Where are you going?" She accuses. Because how dare the man make her feel like this, and then leave her wanting. It doesn't matter that he'd completely satisfied her not even an hour ago. She wants him again. And she's spent the better part of that time pouring her heart out to him against her better judgement. How dare he just leave?

"That is for you to find out, milady. Meet me in the great hall in a half hour." Robin's replies mysteriously.

"Why would I do that?" Her tone sulky as she glares at him in defiance.

It only makes him grin insufferably and Regina wants to slap that smile off his face. Only she doesn't, not really, because despite her best efforts, seeing it brings her a margin of glee. Damn thief. Leaning over, he presses a quick kiss to her lips, short and simple, nothing more than a gesture of affection before he's walking backwards across the room. "A half hour." He repeats before slipping out into the corridor.

—

Regina grumbles to herself the entire way downstairs, her mood still sour despite Robin's efforts to cheer her up. Somewhere she can hear the distant sound of people singing, carols that are unique to the land without magic, and she rolls her eyes, positive Snow is behind the annoyance. It's her doing that Christmas has been spread through every inch of the damn castle in the first place. That there's been nowhere for Regina to escape it.

She isn't sure why she's doing this, going along with the outlaw's request. Nothing he could say or do is going to make this day any better, any less painful. But it's a distraction at least, something else to focus on than wallowing in her misery for the next few hours. Even if she would have much rather stayed in bed with him. And despite all her claims to the contrary regarding their being anything serious, anything _real_ , that their relationship is merely a healthy physical diversion, she's awful at telling him no. Clearly, something he seems to have figured out.

So she ventures through long corridors, heels clicking and echoing off the stone floor on the way to the great hall. There is garland strung along the walls, and wreaths hung from the torches, mistletoe hung from every doorway, which Regina considers a tad over kill, but then when is Snow not? The annoyance she feels at this whole charade, the whole damn holiday is written all over her face as she steps through the large wooden double doors and then Regina comes up short.

There's a huge evergreen in the very center of the room, one that had not been there the last time she'd been in here. It's completely bare of decorations, but there are piles of tinsel and ornaments, bows and candy canes (where the hell had they found those?) scattered around Robin and Roland as they stand with their heads bent over one of the stacks, in what appears to be the middle of a very serious conversation. Lots of frantic whispers and bouncing.

Regina frowns, confused, clears her throat, and both of their heads immediately jerk up to stare at her. Roland's, _R'ginaaaaaa!,_ is instantaneous as he quickly abandons whatever they'd been doing to run over to her, Robin's smile unfolding a bit more slowly across his face as he straightens his spine and grins at her.

The boy's tiny arms wrap tightly around her leather clad thighs, as he smiles up at her with that dopey grin that makes her heart flip over in her chest, brown curls a wild mess around his face. And it hurts, that quick reminder of her own little boy, of years past when he used to greet her just that way. But she's as helpless against Roland's charms as she is his father's and Regina can't quite quell the bubble of delight that chinks away at the wall around her heart.

"What's all this?" She questions, struggles to make her voice light and happy for his benefit. Her hand falls to run her fingers through Roland's hair absentmindedly as her gaze shifts from his smiling face to his father's.

Before Robin can answer, Roland is exclaiming animatedly, "We're decorating! Isn't it exciting? Papa says we have to make the tree all pretty so everyone can be happy on Christmas and Princess Snow saved it just for _us_!" His words are rushed, the enthusiasm of childhood winning out over pronunciation but she gets the gist of it. And Regina eyes Robin wearily, unsure what he's trying to accomplish with this little ruse of Christmas spirit.

He must read her hesitation easily for he's shifting his focus from her to Roland, telling him, "Why don't you go pick our your favorite ornament while I talk with Regina a moment and we can put that one on the tree first, alright?" Roland agrees easily, releasing his hold on her and dashing back to the pile of decorations.

Robin takes a few steps slowly toward her as Regina does the same, bridging the gap between them. "Robin, what is this all about? I told you… I'm not in the mood for this whole charade. Not without Henry…" Regina's voice trails off as she attempts to reel in her shifting emotions.

One of his hands brushes against hers, hooking an index finger around her pinkie. It's a bold move, especially when she's already feeling unsteady and they aren't entirely alone. But Roland isn't paying them any attention and she has to admit the bit of physical contact is nice, exactly what she needs to ground her. It's unsettling the way he can read her reactions like that.

His expression is filled with nothing but understanding as he says, "I know, but I can't stand the thought of you being miserable today. I may not be able to bring you your son for Christmas, Regina, but I can do my best to make today a little bit easier if at all possible." Robin pauses, dips his gaze downward, almost sheepishly before those blue orbs find hers again. "I thought perhaps Roland and myself could start a new tradition, one we would love for you to join us in. I don't expect that he and I come close to being the same thing, but I hope that we might be able to bring you a little bit of joy. To make this Christmas just a tad less painful. Henry would want that for you. I'm sure of it."

Pausing, Robin squeezes her hand gently, lightly interlocking their fingers as his grip on her hand tightens, so she really listens to the words he's about to say, all of her attention zeroed in on him. "You are not alone, Regina. However much it may feel like it right now there are people here who care about you."

She doesn't know what to say, emotion welling up within her throat. His meaning is more than clear, a silent declaration that scares the hell out of her. This man that terrifies her, with his comforting embraces and thoughtful gestures, his dimpled little boy and generous heart. Regina is sure she doesn't deserve him or his affection. Not after everything she's done. Being trapped here without the person she loves most is her punishment after all. Why should she be granted someone else to love her?

It isn't wise to get attached to him. To let moments like this get to her when she knows things never work out for her. And yet, how is she supposed to resist what he's offering?

Maybe it's because she's just tired of trying to keep the façade in place or because it's Christmas or because Robin's looking at her the way he is, imploring and hopeful. Perhaps, she's just tired of fighting these feelings that he evokes within her, but Regina relents, let's go of one of the many weights hanging from her shoulders. Even if just for tonight.

Clearing her throat, Regina nods, plays off the entire moment, responding with a touch of her usual snark, "Right. Well, the insipid tree won't decorate itself." Though she suspects Robin doesn't buy a single word she says, merely chuckling at her, gratefully he says nothing as she pulls her hand from his, breaking their contact, and walks over to Roland. "Well, it looks like we're decorating. Did you find your favorite?"

Bending over she studies the ornament he holds gleefully out for her inspection, admiring the ceramic stuffed bear. "Yup! This one." He exclaims, letting out a whoop of delight.

Regina smiles sweetly at him, begins talking and laughing with him as they place ornament after ornament on the prickly branches. It reminds her of all the times she's done this with Henry, how he would make her a new one every year in school and she would hang it with pride on the tree. And her heart wants to break all over again. But Roland's zest as they string tinsel around and around until they make themselves dizzy circling the tree is like a balm to her soul.

As is Robin's ever calming presence, his gentle caresses, the kisses he sneaks beneath a sprig of mistletoe hung from one of the rafters. Between father and son, Regina feels lighter, like this day isn't the epitome of her hopeless existence. Somehow, beyond her wildest imaginings, Robin and Roland have given her hope for Christmas.


End file.
